Contractual Obligations
I found the envelope tacked to my door. Slicing it open with instinctual ease, I peered inside to see what today’s sport was to be. A name. A crime. A punishment. If you’ve gotten the idea that this is some sort of judge, jury, and executioner kick on my part, you’re sorely mistaken. This just puts more coin in my pocket than conventional jobs ever could. Besides, I excel at it. When the crimes come in such subjective concepts as heresy against the Earth Mother, it should be plain as day that I could care less for the law I enforce. Tellandara Il’Sios, charged with the crime of slaughtering Tauren calves, to be punished with death by blade. Known to reside in Ashenvale. I wandered alone for days on end, relentless in my pursuit and constantly awake. The request I had received detailed a number of useful habits of hers, as well as distinguishing features I was to look out for. Mild xenophobia tends to lend to the belief that “they all look the same”, but holding on to ideas like that would be counterproductive to me, so they are easily dismissed as excuses made by common folk. In due time, I came across her, accompanied by her traveling companion seeming to be in mid-hunt. I paid little mind to him, opting instead to watch her intently for telling mannerisms that would indicate trouble. After a few moments, it became clear that she was a blithe spirit, clearly more interested in the strapping lad beside her than in the possibility of imminent danger. They spotted ideal prey and went after it. I followed. Her homeland’s natural defenses served to keep me hidden in shadow. As she and her companion stalked their prey, I stalked her. Keeping her in plain view at times, following the faint scent of lilacs and sandalwood off her skin at others, I trailed behind her at a calm, steady pace. Finally, she stopped, notching an arrow on her bow. As she drew her arm back and lined up her shot, I stepped in right behind her, sliding an arm around her waist and reaching up…up to drive the point of my blade through the fleshy underside of her jaw and into her skull. Her blood, rich and copper-scented, spilled across my fingers as I reached up in the hole I’d made, tearing her jawbone from her head and tossing her standing-dead form into the arms of her shell-shocked companion. He gained his composure a moment after and screamed something that sounded anguished in his lilting elven tongue. I stared at him blankly as I reached into the pouch by my hip, at once ridding myself of her jawbone and grabbing the handful of flash powder I tossed into the air between us, obfuscating me from view long enough to beat a retreat. I left the butcher’s bag tacked to his door, as per our agreement. Her name is a memory, her crime irrelevant, her punishment complete… and myself richer for my involvement.